Chapter VII - Greeted
Cela squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dark lighting in the cabin. She wiped her feet off on the old welcome mat, long past its prime, that was now losing it's ability to clear off dirt. In front of her was a worn rocking chair that she remembered.
Cela was five. Terrin was twelve. The rocking chair
sat in the corner of their small apartment, which they
shared with their mother. Already without a father, he
had recently died in the war. Their mother had told
them to never, ever, EVER touch the chair.
But of course, as small children do, they both
walked up to the old rickety chair.
"I double dog dare you to sit in the chair,"
Terrin taunted. Cela, who was after all, only five at
the time, agreed.
As she walked to the chair, and slowly sat down,
a voice yelled in her ear, "DON'T!" But of course, she
was oblivious to the fact, and sat down anyway.
Out of nowhere there was a blast of electricity,
and a fire started in the stove.
"Oh god!" Terrin yelled, grabbing their mothers
cell, and Cela's hand. He dialed 9-1-1...
The memory dissolved in her mind, that was all she could remember. It was like trying to hold water in your two cupped hands, you could keep some of it, but eventually it would all slip away through the cracks.
"Come on," Bryn said, taking Cela through the house, to a small alcove off of the living room, with a couch in the corner, and a tall backed chair facing away from them. Just peeking over the back of the chair, Cela could see the top of a head, that was covered with curly red hair.
"Hello Bryn," A smooth voice said, an older man most obviously. "I see you brought a guest with you, and she recognizes the chair. Yes, this is good." Nothing he said made sense to Cela, but none the less she followed Bryn to the couch, his voice sounded familiar, close to Terrin's own evil tone. Before her own eyes was an amazing site, her father...
"Daddy?" She said without thinking. Suddenly she was once again a small girl, running up to hug her father before he went away to fight in the war. But no, that was many many years ago.
"Welcome home Cela." Her father, Tristan replied warmly, opening his arms to allow his daughter to hug him tightly. Cela obliged immediately, running to the man that she had not seen in years, and embracing him.
She cried tears of joy, and Tristan used his two fingers to wipe them from her face. She smiled at him, and stood back up, joining Bryn on the couch. Bryn let her arm rest on Cela's shoulders, and smiled at her.
"Hello Tristan, how good it is to see you again!" Bryn exclaimed.
"You too," Tristan replied, "I am sure young Cela wants to know how I survived the war, but I am afraid I shall have to save that story for another time. For there is a more pressing mater at hand, Terrin.
"My own son, driving the forces of evil. I know you tried Bryn, but by now he is surely turned."
"Yes," Bryn said, "Xavier confirmed that fear. He is already past the first week, we must wait a few days before attempting anything. As you both know right now he is at the height of his power, and I wouldn't want to go after him right now."
"Of course Bryn," Tristan continued, "But we must act quickly, and catch him at his weakest point. We simply can't allow this to continue."
"Yes, yes..." Bryn said, trailing off. "Tristan, I don't suppose you've seen Salenca of late?"
"Ah, speak of the devil, there she is," He said, pointing out a small glass window. And there Sal was, standing out in the fresh autumn air.
"How long has she been here?" Bryn asked, but Cela did not wait to hear her fathers reply. She ran out the door yelling.
"SALENCA!" She cried, "Oh my god, you're alive!" Sal ran up to Cela, and swung her around in a great circle.
"Yes, I am very well alive. It is only due to Tristan that I survived as well, without him I never would have made it this far. For all the much that he looks like Terrin, he sure has a different perspective on life. Terrin lives in that grand castle, and Tristan here lives in this cozy little cottage hidden in the woods." Salenca said as she let Cela down.
"Yeah, if they didn't look alike you could never tell that they were related." Cela replied.
"True, now come on Cela, I know you don't want to listen to our boring talk, but undermining evil forces is hard work you know!" Salenca remarked, and they both laughed as they walked back into the house.
Inside Tristan and Bryn were seriously talking about plans. How would they get back to the castle, how would they take down Terrin, who would take down Terrin, and more pressing...
"Who is going to cook tonight?" Tristan said, a serious look on his face under which there hid a grin.
"Me 'n Cela will do it!" Sal volunteered them, pulling Cela towards the small kitchen.
They started a pot of water to boil, and Salenca pulled out a chunk of meat from the fridge, slicing it thin with a butchers knife. She gave Cela the task of slicing vegetables, and soon Cela had a pile of carrots, potatoes, celery, and other such things next to her. Salenca slid the meat into the pot, and soon the cabin smelled like cooking.
Later Cela slid in the vegetables, and finally Sal stirred in some spices, the stew was complete. They divided it into three bowls, Bryn did not need to eat. But it was near time for her to hunt.
As Cela, Salenca, and Tristan settled down at the table to eat, Bryn slid out the door to hunt. The stew was delicious, a flavor that Cela had not tasted for a long while. She let the spices dance across her tongue, and enjoyed a wonderful dinner with her father that she hadn't seen in thirteen long years.
